


columbine one shots

by c0lumb1n3



Category: Columbine - Fandom
Genre: Dylan Klebold - Freeform, Eric Harris - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0lumb1n3/pseuds/c0lumb1n3
Summary: dylan has a solution for eric's anger issues.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. internalized homophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dylan has a solution for eric's anger issues.

eric sped down the empty freeway with the heat of anger radiating through every fiber in his body. his grip on the steering wheel tightened and he narrowed his eyes the more he sped up. 

he'd been up in the mountains all night with dylan, shooting blindly into the darkness and hoping their bullets didn't hit any humans. it was around 1 am, and the whole night had been perfect up until they saw some of the jocks from school. they'd stopped at mcdonald's for fries and, dylan's favorite, dr. pepper. the jocks did what they always did; make fun of them by calling them some type of homophobic slurs. it didn't bother dylan. he knew he liked men and had no problem with others knowing. it was eric who was a closeted gay with intense internalized homophobia. hell, he'd even call another gay kid a fag if given the chance. but his love for dylan would always have to remain a secret between the two lovebirds.

"reb, maybe you wanna slow down?" dylan asked, his voice shaking with fear. he one, didn't want to be pulled over and two, didn't want to crash. 

"they always fucking do this!" eric yelled back, taking his eyes off the road to meet dylan's worried gaze. "one fucking day dyl, i'm gonna snap."

dylan's eyes widened when he realized eric was going 40 over the speed limit with his eyes on him and not the road. "watch the road!" he replied. 

eric eventually had to slow down once he got off the freeway, but that didn't mean his anger levels weren't still as high as they could be. he pulled into dylan's empty driveway. dylan got out first, followed by eric who slammed the door shut and stormed into the house.

once the two were in dylan's messy room, all eric wanted to do was hurt someone. he was pacing back and forth and walking in circles trying to refrain from punching a hole in dylan's room. but he had to get his anger out somehow.

"i can't take it anymore, v."

dylan, who was laying down and staring at the ceiling waiting for the short boy's tantrum to be over, looked over at eric, who had stopped pacing. "take what?"

he hesitated. "this. being made fun of for being gay, when i'm not even really that gay."

dylan laughed. "but, you are." eric narrowed his eyes with anger and scoffed. dylan sat up at the edge of the bed. "you were supposed to work on your anger issues."

"i know," eric said, throwing his hands in the air. he began pacing once more. "but nothing works. i've tried fucking everything-"

his speech about how nothing works and how he was gonna get revenge was nothing new to dylan. and he was right. nothing ever worked for his anger. but tonight, dylan thought he might be able to help him.

in the middle of eric's monologue, dylan stood up behind eric. he turned around. "what if," he paused, "you take it out on me?"

eric just started back at dylan. "no."

"what? why not?"

"well--because that's what they were making fun of us for."

dylan walked closer. "but, nobody's here. and my parents aren't home." no response from eric. "won't be back for a while."

"so, what? you want me to fuck you until i'm not mad anymore?"

he shrugged and sat back down on the bed. "whatever to make you shut up."

there was no denying eric wanted dylan, but he didn’t want to admit it. 

eric hesitantly approached dylan. sanding between his legs now, looking down at him, he suddenly grasped dylan's throat. dylan gasped.

"don't ever fucking tell me to shut up again," eric spat.

he smiled to himself. "sorry," dylan mumbled, feeling lightheaded from eric's tight grip on his airway.

eric took a fistful of dylan hair, and yanked his head back so he'd be looking directly up at him.

“you’re all mine tonight, dylan.”

he pulled him down off the bed, letting go of his throat, and dylan finally gasped for a breath of air. he was now on his knees, his heart racing from excitement. 

"you already know what to do."

the boy on his knees scoffed as he started unbuttoning eric's pants. the bulge in eric’s pants was slowly growing larger. "you're really mad at them 'cause they called you a fag?" he looked back up at eric, who still was holding onto his hair. "look at you, getting hard over your best friend... they were kinda right," dylan muttered loud enough for him to hear, only because he knew it would make eric more infuriated than he already was. 

"the fuck did you say?" eric asked. dylan felt eric’s hand tighten on his hair. he looked up at eric, who he could see was growing with more anger. 

dylan smiled again. "i said," he paused to place his hands on eric's dick, "you're a fag." eric scoffed and shoved his dick into dylan's mouth. he began forcefully shoving himself into dylan's face. he gagged at eric's quick movements but he didn't stop. dylan moaned as his dick got harder, pressing against his pants.

it had been a while since eric had gotten a blowjob because he was so in denial of who he was. but in this moment, he didn't care. eric threw his head back and a quiet moan slipped out.

dylan took him out of his mouth and looked up at him. "who said to stop?" eric said.

"i want you to fuck me."

eric scoffed. he crouched down to be at eye level with dylan. “i call the shots here, remember?”

still holding tightly onto the blonde mess of dylan's hair, he threw him onto the bed and watched dylan eagerly unbutton his black cargo pants.

“slow down, v. you’re so eager.” dylan slowed down and eric watched as he undressed himself. "you know," eric began, slowly walking up to the bed, "you're pretty hot."

for a moment, eric almost forgot how mad he was. he almost forgot how much rage was bottled up inside. 

and then he remembered.

he furrowed his brows and pulled dylan's so he was at the edge of the bed, propped up by his elbows and his legs hanging off the bed. eric kissed him and placed a hand on his cheek, the other slowly stroking dylan's throbbing cock. he let out a whimper and eric pulled away from the passionate kiss.

"you like that faggot?" eric asked. he looked into dylan's pleading green eyes. he nodded. 

eric lined himself up with dylan's twink asshole and put only the tip in. dylan moaned and tried lowering himself farther onto eric's dick, but eric gripped dylan's hips and sunks his nails into his skin. he got close to dylan's face, their noses almost touching.

“so impatient, dylan.” eric shook his head and forced the rest of his dick inside dylan.

dylan’s eyes widened as he let out a loud moan and gripped the bedsheets. “fuck, eric,” he whimpered. 

eric maintained the slow speed, not only teasing dylan but also himself. he let go of dylan’s bony hips to reveal deep marks of where his nails were. he went back up to kiss dylan, who was moaning into eric’s mouth. 

the sound of skin slapping quickly filled the room as eric picked up the pace. their lips still connected, he began jacking dylan off once more. 

eric pulled away, a string of thick saliva connecting their lips. “you’re gonna cum, are you?” he asked dylan, whose eyes were rolled to the back of his head. eric was impressed he was doing such a good job on him. 

“yeah,” dylan managed to get out between moans. 

“cum for me, vodka,” he said. 

it wasn’t long before the two came and eric’s hand and dylan’s stomach were both covered in white, warm cum.

eric roller over onto his back as he panted like a dog in the heat. he looked at dylan who seemed to be in a state of euphoria. 

he let out a short laugh. “i am a fag, huh?” eric asked. 

dylan looked at the sticky mess eric had made of him. “i guess so.”


	2. safety first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eric's gonna get his nut somehow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this was a request

chills went down dylan's spine as eric dragged the heavy, cold gun down his stomach. he'd just bought it, for the sole purpose of using it in the bedroom. dylan's hands were bound above his head by handcuffs eric had stolen from a cop who arrested him once. dylan's heartbeat pounded so fast he was sure he'd have a heart attack. his head was throbbing. it was the first time they ever brought a gun into the bedroom. this whole thing was eric's idea. he was sadistic and loved seeing the terror in dylan's eyes when he held the gun to his temples. he couldn't kill dylan, because he'd miss him too much. he didn this instead since it was the closest thing he'd get to murder.

"i don't wanna do this anymore, eric," dylan whispered, nervously following the gun with his eyes. he saw eric bring it up to his face, and he closed his eyes. he could feel it gliding along his chest, collarbones, neck , and finally it wasn't touching him anymore. he knew if he opened his eyes the gun would be pointing at his head. eric was predictable like that.

eric shook his head and laughed to himself. he lifted dylan's chin up by the end of the gun and grabbed his face. "open your eyes," he said softly. dylan's breathing quickened and he squeezed his eyes tighter. the cocking of the gun sounded so loud in the quiet room. it bounced off the walls and hit dylan's ears. "i said open your eyes."

dylan slowly opened his eyes, not wanting to look down the barrel. "please, can we just go to bed?" he pleaded. his eyes were beginning to swell with tears. he stared up at the ceiling so they didn't roll down his face. he knew eric would love to see it.

"you don't trust me?" eric drew back the gun and placed it on the bed next to him. he sighed.

"i do," dylan began, "but i'm scared. it's loaded." he looked over at the gun laying next to eric. he thought of the potential it had & began to overthink.

"yeah but the safety's on." he rolled is eyes.

dylan looked away from eric's gaze. "then what's the point of the bullets in the first place?" 

"for the thrill." dylan's voice was beginning to sound shaky and more fearful. it made eric want to see him more afraid.

eric picked the gun up and held it firmly on dylan's forehead. "you still scared?" he asked, hoping he would say that he was, or tremble, or even cry. eric deeply loved dylan but he was addicted to seeing him in pain. dylan didn't reply. "i'm gonna pull the trigger," he joked.

dylan shook his head. "eric no."

he smirked. "i'll do it. ready? the safety's on-"

"no! take the handcuffs off, eric, please," he pleaded. he blinked and tears started making their way down his face.

"you're a pussy. it's not even-"

the gunshot rattled through eric's bones. he'd heard a gunshot before, but never in a tiny bedroom this close to his face. his ears rang, and for a couple minutes, he was deaf. when the gun went off, he instinctively shut his eyes and let it go. it fell to the floor. he wasn't prepared for the sight he'd see when he would open them. 

dylan's once beautiful face was mutilated. he didn't even look like a person. his brain and hair stuck to the wall behind him. there was so much blood; on the bed, on eric, on the walls, on the floor, and on the ceiling. eric looked at the horrific scene he'd just created.

but instead of crying or vomiting or a regular human response to murdering your boyfriend, he felt himself getting hard. he looked down at his dick in disbelief. eric always knew he was fucked in the head but he didn't think he was _this_ messed up.

"fuck," he muttered to himself.

he placed a hand on dylan's arm. he was still warm. rigor mortis wouldn't set in for a while. 

he pulled the boxers off dylan's lifeless body. eric looked at him. how could he have just died? he was alive 5 minutes ago. eric sighed.

dylan would probably be difficult to fuck, so limp and heavy. eric took his legs and tried to position them so he'd have easy access, but it was just so hard without the help of his muscles moving.

he threw his lifeless legs over his own shoulders. he figured this position would be easiest. eric took a deep breath and tried inserting himself into dylan. he was just so stiff it would go in. eric threw his head back in frustration. 

he tossed the lifeless legs off of his shoulders and went to search for lube in the night stand. there was blood all over the handle. he rummaged around the messy drawer, and found an old polaroid of them.

it was at the shooting range. they were both smiling at the camera holding guns in one hand, the other around the opposite boy. he picked it up and held it closer for a better look. he looked over at what used to be dylan. 

eric found himself crying. he put down the picture and picked up the lube.

minutes later he was able to fuck dylan's body. he was used to dylan moaning or kissing him, but it was quiet. 

he slowed down and really got a look at dylan. his arms still above his head, his head halfway blown off. still violently thrusting himself inside the dead body, he began crying again as he nutted. he pulled out and laid his head down on dylan's bloody chest. eric wrapped his arms around him. 

"dy-dylan," he choked, through tears. 

eric didn't know what he expected when dylan didn't respond. he reached for dylan's face to kiss him, but it wasn't there.

"i'm so sorry, v."


	3. things are getting dicey...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw cuts & carving into skin  
> also sorry i didn't proof read this bc this was painful to write

"it's a nice knife, reb," dylan said, holding the shiny object up to his face for a better look. it was black and shiny, and had a jagged blade to rip flesh easily. he set it back down on the bed beside him and shrugged. "i just don't see what it we would use it for."

dylan looked at eric, who was examining the knife, a sinister smile tugging at the younger boy's lips. "it isn't for nbk," eric said, eyeing dylan's exposed skin.

he laughed. "so what did you get it for?" dylan asked. 

eric just stared at him. "you know," he said slowly, "stuff."

dylan gulped. there was an awkward moment of silence between the two. 

the knife was suddenly met with dylan's throat. "what the fuck eric?!" dylan yelled, moving away from the sharp blade. 

"what?" asked eric, as if he'd done nothing wrong. he pulled the knife away and held it in his lap. he sighed and shook his head. "i just thought, hey, we die next week, let's make our last time interesting," he muttered, a somber tone clinging to his voice.

dylan put a hand on the older boy's shoulder and rolled his eyes. "whatever you want, reb." 

the next week was normal; they acted as if nothing was going to happen in a few days. eric and dylan walked the halls, getting pushed around by the jocks, getting called names, the usual. 

but today was monday, april 19, 1999. eric was just about ready to die, dylan was a little uneasy knowing today was his last, but overall the two were, for the most part, unfazed. eric was just excited that later tonight, he'd get to use his new knife on dylan. 

it was considerably early for them, though the rest of the house was in bed. it was 11, and dylan watched eric pack a bowl on his bed. the moonlight made eric look paler than he really was. it bounced off his face, perfectly illuminating his features. dylan enjoyed the pretty sight of eric being so concentrated on something. 

"do you need a light?" dylan asked. 

eric shook his head without looking up at dylan before pulling a white lighter out of his pocket & taking a rip from the bong. he handed it to dylan.

dylan didn't smoke as often as eric and always burnt his thumb with the lighter. "can you..." he made a motion with his hands pretending to light it.

eric nodded and lit the bowl for him. dylan started coughing up smoke, and eric shushed him. "my parents are gonna wake up." he turned dylan's face so that he'd be facing the window. "and blow it outside."

"sorry," dylan managed to get out between coughs. "it's like, strong."

eric scoffed. "it's the same shit we always smoke."

"oh."

they continued passing the bong back and forth until they'd smoked the last of eric's weed.

dylan's eyes were as red as they could be and he could barely see though his squinted eyelids. he was laying on the bed, feeling as if he were singing through the bed, the floor, and then through the earth. he was humming random notes to himself, enjoying the high. eric was alright; he was slowly spinning himself in the desk chair, trying to keep himself awake. this strain always made him feel tired.

eric put his feet on the ground and stopped spinning. he looked at dylan who had a stupid smile on his face. "hey," he said softly, scooting the chair back to the desk. he picked up the knife sitting on the desk. 

"hm," dylan uttered, not taking his eyes off the ceiling, imagining they were clouds as he fell through the sky. 

"can i use this now?" the moonlight reflected off the shiny, silver blade. he got up from the chair and walked over to the bed. eric sat down near dylan's feet and looked at the exposed skin that wasn't covered by his shirt.

"i don't care, reb." dylan closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. 

"you don't?" he asked again. dylan shook his head lazily.

eric shrugged to himself and inched closer to dylan, who seemed to be drifting off to sleep. he peered over him, looking at his nine inch nails shirt. he lifted it up and pressed the knife against him. "dylan," he said quickly. eric looked up at him. no response. "okay." 

he dragged the knife against dylan's delicate skin. 

dylan jolted awake and clutched his stomach after seeing the small incision overflow with blood. "what the fuck?!" he yelled. 

eric innocently looked into dylan's eyes, then at the blood pilling through his fingers, then at the bloody knife. "doesn't it feel good?"

"no!" dylan shifted his gaze away from eric. "okay, well--i just wasn't expecting it."

"yeah." eric chuckled to himself. "anyways, you always said you _liked_ pain." dylan did nothing but try to stop the blood from getting on the bed. he began to look sick.

eric furrowed his brows and scooted closer to dylan, who looked like he was about to pass out. 

"you good, v?" he asked, setting the knife down and cupping dylan's now pale face.

"i-i'm high as shit, eric, and i'm freaking out. am i gonna die? i'm bleeding a lot." dylan looked at his hands, covered in blood.

eric lifted his head back up so they were face to face. "i didn't even cut you that deep. you're fine." 

planting a kiss on his lips, he gently pushed him onto the bed . 

eric kissed him again, each movement becoming more sloppy. him and dylan both were still very high and eric didn't completely feel in control of his body. dylan let out a soft moan as eric's lips parted with his, then met with the soft skin of dylan's neck.

sitting up straight again, eric grabbed the knife. "take the shirt off," he said. 

dylan obediently nodded and took it off in one swift movement. a smirk grew on eric's face as he dragged the knife down dylan's body, not applying enough pressure to actually tear the skin. 

dylan's heartbeat pounded loudly, so much that it was the only thing he could hear. he was sure he wouldn't make it to nbk from the blood loss he was about to experience, and the weed didn't help with his paranoia. if he didn't bleed out, it'd be the heart attack that kills him.

but eric got off on dylan's fear. "are you scared?" he asked.

dylan nodded. 

"of what?" eric already knew the answer but just needed to hear dylan say it.

he gulped. "i don't want to die before we--you know," dylan uttered.

eric scoffed. "good." he pierced the skin once more, dylan biting his bottom lip to stifle a scream. it was deeper than the other one, this time it was near his ribcage.

he saw dylan's petrified expression and kissed him in attempt to calm him down. eric could feel dylan becoming less and less tense. 

eric's hand snaked down dylan's pants, and he fondled dylan's twink cock.

"c-can we fuck now?" dylan stammered. 

eric laughed. "i have a better idea." he firmly gripped the handle of the knife, ready to plunge it into dylan. eric put a hand over dylan's mouth. "don't fucking scream. okay?" 

dylan gripped eric's and move it away from his face. "why?"

"just stop talking," eric said, putting his hand over his mouth again.

he stank the knife into his lower abdomen as deep as he could. dylan's muffled scream was still extremely loud. "shut up!" eric hissed.

dylan ripped eric's hand off his face. "why did you just fucking stab me?!" dylan clutched his once again bleeding stomach.

eric started taking off his pants and dylan looked up at him confused.

"wait you're gonna-"

"mhm." eric pulled down his boxed and his dick bounced up like a spring. "if it's okay with you."

dylan nodded.

eric started to jack himself off at the sight of the blood. he moved dylans hand, revealing a small but blood slit in this skin. his dick wasn't massive, but the hole was going to be a tight squeeze. it was also longer than the knife, so he'd have to deepen it himself. 

"hold on," eric said, before sticking two fingers into the hole, making the opening a wider entrance for himself. he pulled his fingers out and sucked the sweeet, bight red blood off of them. dylan gripped the pillow above him, trying not to make any noises. "okay, you ready?"

"y-yeah," dylan whispered, his voice shaking like a leaf in the wind. 

eric lined himself up with the hole, enjoying the sight of dylan being covered in blood.

he forced himself into the tight hole, letting out a small moan as he did so. he reached down to jack dylan off; he didn't want to be the only one cumming tonight.

dylan whimpered out of pain, and pleasure. "is it g-good?"

"mhm," eric said admiring the bloody mess. "you're doing so good, v."

blood was flowing everywhere, onto the blankets, dylan's pants that were still on; eric didn't care though. dirty bed sheets were the least of his problems.

eric leaned in for a kiss. it became more sloppy as time passed, but eric keep a steady, slow pace.

he saw no point in rushing his last nut ever. he wanted to enjoy the last intimate moment he'd have with dylan before they died tomorrow.

dylan placed a hand on eric's chest and pulled away from the wet kiss. "c-can you go faster?" he whined. 

eric chuckled and slowed down. "so eager, dylan. is it too much?" he asked, sweetly. 

dylan shook his head. 

"then stop fucking complaining," eric said, firmly. 

eric's hands kept a firm grip on his boyfriend’s hips as the hole in dylan became deeper with each movement. 

it wasn't long before his thrusts became sloppy. 

as he came closer to cumming he fingered the other cuts he'd previously left on dylan's abdomen, causing dylan to whimper out in pain.

eric pulled out, watching the stab wound pooled with cum. he scoffed.

"hold on," he said, picking up the knife. "i wanna give the detectives something to look at."

-

the forensic pathologist was lucky enough to preform the autopsy on the most infamous teenage killers. his pen scribbled on the autopsy report, "ABDOMEN: the abdomen is flat. external trauma is present, spelling out 'REBS BITCH', and two 3-4 inch cuts. there is no evidence of previous surgical exploration. there is green discoloration of the lower abdomen. on deep palpation, no organomegaly or masses are noted grossly."


	4. steak au poivre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw mentions of overdose  
> very sorry did not proof read this and also sorry bc its a horror show!!!

it had been a long day at work. he had ended the night at the hospital with a patient dying, then after that was the 9 hour whipple procedure. of course, he had breaks and switched out with other surgeons a few times, but the patient's death was weighing down on him. he'd been in and out of the hospital over the course of a year and a half. he was his favorite patient he'd ever treated but he hated seeing him back in the hospital. each time he came, the cancer kept getting worse. today was his final trip to the hospital, and he left to go to the morgue. 

he drove home, just looking forward to seeing dylan. he sped down the freeway, envisioning himself with his arms around dylan. he was the only thing that calmed him down.

once he arrived to his apartment, he slammed the door behind him and dropped his backpack that was full of things he needed for the long shifts. it hit the ground with a loud thud that got dylan's attention. 

he popped his head out of the bedroom with a smile. "hey," he said kindly.

the somber look on eric's face quickly faded to a bright smile. dylan retreated back into the bedroom as eric made his way over.

eric pushed the door open all the way, seeing dylan laying on the bed. he seemed to be staring up at the ceiling. eric sat down besides him, his legs hanging off the tall bed. "hey, v," he said turning to him.

no response.

"hm." he shook his shoulder. still, nothing. "well, i had the worst day. terry--he passed away early tonight. it was fucking awful."

"it sucks, huh? knowing someone you care about is dead." eric looked up at dylan who was standing in the corner with his arms folded. 

eric nodded. "i'm starving," he said, standing up. "i'm gonna cook-"

"me, right?" dylan scoffed. "you need to stop fucking eating me."

eric rolled his eyes and walked out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen. dylan instinctively followed him. 

"how are you preparing it?" dylan asked, as eric opened the refrigerator. he pulled out a slab of red meat and set it on the counter.

"seak au poiver," her said, smiling to himself. eric was an excellent cook. every night, he'd make fancy meals for him and dylan.

eric unwrapped the meat and set it on the cutting board. he started off by seasoning the steak with salt, and set it aside to rummage through the cabinets for more ingredients.

dylan chuckled. "steak," he said sarcastically, "right." his eyes followed eric's hands as the crushed peppercorns, then pressed the so called 'steak' into them. he grabbed a pan from the cupboard and oil off the counter. the pan sizzled as the meat hit the hot oil.

"eric, i love you. but you need to do something about-"

"no! i mean," he paused, zoning out as he listened to the pan sizzle as it cooked the steak. "i just need more time. i'm not done with you yet." 

he sighed. "yeah, sure." dylan watched eric continue to cook, the smile that he once wore vanishing. "it's just," he looked over at the bedroom door, the smell coming from it growing stronger each day. "i stink."

eric gulped. "so?" 

he sighed. "reb." dylan placed a hand on his shoulder. 

eric nudged him away. "just shut up. i need to make the sauce and it's not gonna come out good if you keep nagging me. you're about to piss me off."

"are you at least gonna use the rest of me?" eric didn't respond. he put a stick of butter into the pan and watched it melt. "hello?"

"what, your legs?" he looked at dylan's face, and then at his legs. he shook his head. "they're the best part."

dylan shook his head in disgust. "my family is going to notice i'm missing."

"no," eric replied, letting out a sigh. he stirred the garlic around the buttery pan. "they didn't notice you before, your absence will go unnoticed." 

dylan furrowed his brows. "just finish your stupid food." he walked back to the bedroom, letting eric cook in peace.

after about an hour of eric whipping things up in the kitchen, he sat down at the table opposite from dylan.

dylan watched him scarf down the french dish as if it were his last meal ever. eric softly hummed to himself and he chewed with a smile.

"it's that good?" dylan rudely questioned. 

eric nodded. "but not as good if i had used real steak."

"mhm. i'll bet."

eric placed the fork down on the plate and looked up at dylan. "you used to be nice to me. before you--" eric couldn't bring himself to say it. "you're selfish. swallowing all those pills--why would you try to leave me?!" he pictured the sight he saw last week; dylan hunched over the toilet, foaming at the mouth. he died before eric could break the bathroom door down. he still hadn't fixed it, six days later. he remembered when dylan's skin still had color, when his lips were still pink and plump. when his eyes weren't foggy, resembling bowls of milk. when he had arms.

"i'm not even really me, eric. i'm your imagination. _you're_ making me mean."

the hallucinations started immediately after dylan's death. he was sad at first, but when he discovered he'd still be able to see his lover, he was okay with his physical body being limp and lifeless, because his spirit was there with him. he found it comforting. 

he chuckled. he got up from the chair and stared down at dylan. "yeah?"

dylan looked around the room in confusion. "yeah."

"okay. well then i'm gonna do something you don't like." he stormed off to the room.

dylan realized what he had in mind and jolted out of the chair. he chased after eric, only to walk in on him hastily unbuttoning his pants. dylan narrowed his eyes. 

"don't fucking do that, man," he said, sounding defeated.

eric looked over at dylan. "do you wanna know," he began, climbing towards the body before him, "the best part about letting you sit? and rot?" he spread thee corpse's limp, pale legs. "it starts warming back up," he whispered. 

there were bodily fluids leaking from dylan, most which have dried up, but eric didn't mind. it was just like lube to him. dylan was bloated, so much that eric thought he would combust eventually. 

his eyes scanned over dylan's body--or what was left of it. both arms were stripped right off the bone, having been eaten by eric. he wanted to leave his head on him because he wanted something to look at while he fucked him. but now dylan's face was sunken in. his eyes were still open since eric felt it made him more lifelike. they were turning white, like he was blind. the lips he kissed five days ago were purple and his jaw hung open. he's tried shutting it with his hand but it won't stay closed without the help of his muscles. 

eric didn't mind the body limbs, bloated body or mouth that was permanently ajar. the smell was unbearable. 

it was like rotted meat mixed with shit and rotten eggs. it was like nothing he'd ever smelled. he thought it would be fine, that he could handle it. but the left side of the floor beside the bed had puddles of not only blood from dylan, but also puddles of chunky vomit. sometimes he couldn't make it to the bathroom or it would come up before he realized it, and puke on the bed. there was now way he could lift dylan and move him so the sheets could be washed, so it stayed there.

well, there eric was, about to force himself into the thing that could barley be called 'dylan' anymore, surrounded by blood and vomit, the stench of the mix dancing in his nostrils. 

he looked over at dylan in the corner, who had his arms crossed. he was disappointed. 

eric supposed that if his hallucination saw a problem with what he was doing, maybe he was doing something wrong. he scoffed. "whatever, dyl. you're not even real. like you said."

dylan sighed. "right. i'll see you in hell, eric." dylan faded away, and eric turned back to the corpse.

he scoffed. "see you in hell," he said to the corpse, before shoving himself inside it.


	5. lookout mountain

_ are you still coming over? i can pick you up _

_ yeah but can we just drive around  _

_ i don’t want to have to be quiet the whole time _

_ yea _

_ omw _

dylan hadn’t seen eric for almost two months. their time apart was agonizing for the both of them. dylan wasn’t allowed to leave the house at all. sue had all their groceries delivered directly

to the house, so dylan couldn’t even go to the store. during this time dylan learned how to cook, like most people did during the pandemic. 

he always made a mess but his mom wasn’t opposed to it since she didn’t have to cook dinner every night anymore. when he wasn’t cooking or sleeping or eating, he was texting or on the phone with eric. he had other friends but he was the only one that he wanted to talk to.

dylan wasn’t entirely sure about their relationship, if you could even call it that. before when the world was normal they’d hang out all the time and do couple-y things. he assumed the reason he’d been cold with him recently is just because they haven’t been together. their conversations have been dry and dylan felt annoying talking to him.

even so, he couldn’t stop talking to him. 

tonight would be their first night together since the covid-19 outbreak. dylan was excited to finally be with eric after all this time, even though he could tell eric didn’t really care. he was nervous; would be act weird after not being around him for so long? 

it was 1 am and dylan’s parents were fast asleep by now. he easily snuck out the first door and got in his car to pick up eric. 

eric was sure of their relationship: strictly friendship. he was never comfortable with the fact that he had feelings for dylan. he //knew// he fell for him but he’d never admit it to dylan. he was embarrassed. 

even though being gay, or even bi, wasn’t taboo in 2020, he still felt like it was wrong. 

and besides, he could never imagine himself with a man. he always imagined himself getting married and having a wife and kids. never would he thought that he’d be so in love with dylan. 

until now. 

he was glad the world shut down and he couldn’t see dylan. he was sure he’d lost feelings for dylan. he couldn’t see him or feel his touch; that was all he needed to flush out his love for him. eric was confident they’d just talk like buddies tonight, not as two guys who were in love. 

from his window, eric saw dylan’sblack car pull up to his driveway. he smiled, then quickly became angry with himself. he had to get over dylan. 

eric tiptoed out the front door, and saw dylan looking at him through the passenger window. he waved. 

he got in the car and put his seatbelt on before saying anything. “hey man,” he said casually. 

_man_?, thought dylan. that was weird. out of the ordinary. ‘man.’

dylan chuckled. “hi.” without saying another word, he pulled out of the driveway and began driving around. 

it was uncomfortable. the tension between them was uncomfortable. dylan was uncomfortable with being called ‘man’ when eric had never said that before. eric was uncomfortable with the fact that his feelings might come back tonight. everything made everyone uncomfortable. 

it was quiet too. the silence louder than any word they could have said, so loud a deaf man could hear it. 

dylan was confused. he thought eric would kiss him, or at least hug him. he thought he’d get him with a smile, or he’d say how much he missed him. but all he got was, ‘hey man.’ like he was his friend. and they _were_ friends; but he thought that maybe he meant a little more than that to eric. apparently he was wrong. he was just another one of the guys. 

eric looked out the window as his eyes followed the buildings the zoomed by. he was brought back to the reality that he might actually still be in love with dylan. it was easy to be cold and boring over the phone with him. but he’s here, in the flesh the way he was before; the way he was when they were practically a couple. it brought back memories. 

memories of their first ‘date’ (unofficial, but if dylan had been a girl eric would have considered it one). memories of when dylan kissed him for the first time. memories of when he slept over for the first time after dylan told eric loved him. 

he wanted the painful silence to end. the tension between the two was agonizing. the thought of loving a man was agonizing. he had to say something. 

“where are we going?”

dylan looked over at him, then back at the road. “red rocks. i’m just gonna park there, we can talk. or—whatever.” he approached a red light and looked at eric. he was staring out the window. 

he placed a hand on eric’s and he immediately took his hand back and shot dylan a disgusted look. 

“dude.”

dylan gulped. the light turned both their faces green. 

embarrassed, he kept driving. they’d be at red rocks soon and the awkwardness would only intensify once they were sitting in the dark and empty parking lot. 

he felt like an idiot. man. dude. it was clear to dylan now that eric wanted things to go back to how they were a year ago, when there was no love between them. 

he scoffed. 

clearly there was no love between them, and dylan was the only one who felt that way. 

they arrived after not saying a word to each other. all dylan wanted to do was go home. he’d made a fool of himself. 

and he was about to do it again. 

“what’s your deal, eric?”

he didn’t answer right away. “what deal?”

“you don’t like me anymore? or what? i don’t know, i just thought we were, like, a thing.”

if it weren’t so dark, dylan would see eric roll his eyes. “a thing? i’m not fucking gay.”

“yeah,” he said, trying to believe eric. “yeah, yeah i know. i just don’t understand why you would kiss me and do all the shit we’ve done if you were straight.”

eric scoffed. “no, i just—“ he cut himself off. he took a deep breath. “i don’t know dylan.”

dylan’s eyes began to swell with tears. he was just thankful it was near pitch black and eric couldn’t see. “i know,” he began, trying not to sound like he was about to cry, “i know you don’t love me. but i love you. and it’s okay that you don’t feel the same way. but i just—never mind.”

frustration taking over, he turned the car back on. 

“wait,” eric said. “it’s not like that.”

it took every muscle in dylan’s body to stop him from breaking down and crying right there. he loved eric with all his heart. he thought he at least deserved a proper breakup. “what is it like then?”

eric didn’t respond. 

the air became still once more, it became painful again. eric decided he’d just sleep and wake up at home and this whole weird night would be over. 

he rested his head on the window and drifted off to sleep. 

dylan was heartbroken. he thought tonight they’d be reunited and they would talk about all the things they used to. instead it was a night of embarrassment and silence for him. 

he thought eric chose not to go to his house because if they were in his room he’d be temped to do something to dylan. 

_i should have seen it coming_ , he thought. 

eric was shaken awake by dylan. 

he tiredly opened his eyes. there were no bright streetlights like there was in front of his house. 

he looked out the front window and saw the city lights twinkling in the distance. he turned to dylan with a tired smile. 

they were at lookout mountain park, the place he’d always wanted to go to with a lover. the reason he never took dylan was because he was so in denial. and because it was cheesy and stupid to go on a cute date like that. he only talked about it once with him. 

not to dylan. 

“you remembered,” eric said, surprised. 

“yeah, ‘cause i love you.”

eric examined dylan. the moon was big that night. it was just enough light that eric could see dylan. his face had been soaked with tears, his eyes were a little red. 

dylan weakly smiled. he looked like a mess. he must’ve ran his fingers through his hair the way he did when he was stressed while eric was asleep. 

but he was beautiful to eric, as much as he hated to admit it. he couldn’t deny it any longer.

he laid a kiss on dylan’s lips which were now salty from his tears. 

“i love you too, v.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i wrote this because i was sad as fuck about dylan and needed 2 vent lol we will go back to rancid content soon <333


	6. spaghetti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> grrr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this to get back into the groove of writing so be kind if it FUCKING SUCKS anyways i have a lot more gore content for u all which is what i’m so good at writing so fret not fans <333 anyways, tw mentions of abuse 💯

dylan fell asleep as soon as his tired head hit the pillow. it was a friday, which meant that every teacher wanted to give out a test on the previous week’s lesson. the hardest one was history, since he had that class with eric and never paid attention. all they did was make jokes and flirt. 

he could barley keep his eyes open during class today, since he’d been up all night on the phone with eric. 

his room was quiet and all that could be heard was the faint noise of cars zooming by outside his window, until the phone at his desk began ringing. 

startled out of his slumber, dylan sprang up out of his bed. it was his natural instinct to run to the phone every time it rang, since most of the time it was eric calling. 

eric held the telephone to his ear with his shoulder as he frantically stuffed clothes into his black jansport backpack. 

through the door he could hear his parents screaming at each other, his dad stomping around the house, his mom chasing after him. 

he paused on the packing for a moment and hoped the line would stop ringing soon. he wiped tears from his face with his sleeve and zipped the backpack up. 

“hey,” dylan answered. “what’s up?” he was as tired as could be but he was happy eric woke him up to talk. 

“can i stay at your place? maybe for a couple nights?” 

eric could be heard sniffling and what sounded like crying, or at least heavy breathing. “is everything alright?” dylan asked, concerned, though he already knew the answer. 

“mhm,” eric lied. “i’ll explain when i get there.”

“okay, i still gotta ask my mom but i’m sure-“

dylan was cut short by eric abruptly hanging up. he tossed the phone down and hastily got his shoes on. 

he pressed his ear against the door to hear if his father was anywhere nearby. the voices and footsteps seemed to be growing closer. 

eric stood up and put his backpack on, backing away from the door. he knew his father would burst in any moment. he was right. 

“where are you going?” he asked, angrily. his face was red with rage. 

“i’m leaving.” 

eric’s mom was behind her husband with a somber look on her face. “honey, we can talk about this,” she said. 

his father scoffed. “let him go.”

he walked closer to eric, shaking his head. a frown of disappointment and disgust weighed down on his mouth. “i don’t need a faggot in my house anyways.” he spat in eric’s face, then stormed out of the room.

his mom stood in the doorway. “honey,” she said quietly, waking up to the frail boy. his shoulders were tense and his throat was sore from sobbing. 

eric shook his head and shooed her away. “i’m okay, mom. i’m going to d-“ he stopped himself. “i’ll be back in a little.”

he wiped his face of the spit as a tear rolled down his face. 

eric didn’t want to spend another second in that toxic house walked out. 

he threw his bag in the passenger seat and looked at himself in the rear view mirror of his car. 

around his eyes were darkening circles. his lip was split open and there was drying blood that came from his nose. 

he couldn’t let dylan see him like this. he loved that dylan cared about him so much but it was moments like this he wish he didn’t. 

he cleaned himself up as much as he could with the sleeve of the blue flannel, threw on some shades and drove off. 

“eric just said he wants to stay here for a little,” dylan said to his mom who was trying to cook dinner without being bothered about eric. 

“how long?”

“a day or two, i think.”

she raised a brow. “okay,” she began, “but you two can’t yell about the video games in the basement because-“

“i know, i know.” he rolled his eyes. 

dylan went back up in his room, and waited for eric. 

dylan’s mom knew they were together. everyone did. they were out to everyone at school, dylan’s parents, all their friends. everyone knew except for eric’s family. 

eric knew if they found out he’d be disowned. he’d never said anything to make him think that, but eric knew his father all too well. he wasn’t they type of man to accept things that weren’t ‘normal’. 

he desperately wanted his parents approval and he knew by being gay he would never get it. all he wanted was to be accepted by them. 

eric sped down the highway, just wanting to be with dylan. he’d tried to stop from sobbing, as to not have puffy eyes, but he could stop.

he wanted nothing more than to be in dylan’s arms, letting it all out to him. 

finally, after what seemed like forever to him, eric arrived. 

he looked at himself in the mirror. you couldn’t see his bloodshot eyes through the shades. he looked fine, apart from the split lip. 

he grabbed his bag and quickly went to knock on the door. 

“dylan!” his mother called from the kitchen. no response. “dylan! eric’s here!”

she groaned and wiped her hands clean from the sauces she’d gotten all over herself. she wasn’t the best chef. 

the door swung open and eric forced a smile. “hi, miss klebold.”

“oh, eric sweetie, what happened to your lip?” she asked, concerned. 

“i fell down the stairs. the ones outside the school. like, the concrete ones, you know?” he was hoping she’d buy his lies. 

“oh,” she said, relieved it wasn’t from a fight, “looks painful. dylan’s in his room.”

sue went back to cooking and eric hurried up the stairs. 

the door flung open and eric dropped the bag besides his feet. dylan just looked up at him from the bed. 

“what’s with the sunglasses? you look like a douchebag.” eric choked back tears. 

dylan got up from the bed and stood in front of eric. he snatched the sunglasses from his face, revealing the circles around his eyes. he looked like a raccoon. dylan gasped and cupped eric’s beaten face. 

eric shied away from dylan’s view.

he turned eric’s face back to him. “what happened?”

eric wanted to cry again. “fuckibg brooks was talking loud about us and my dad heard. kicked him out and then he fucking beat me up.” that was all it took for eric to lose it again. dylan frowned and closed the door behind eric.

shocked, dylan embraces eric as he sobbed into his chest. “what did brooks even say?”

“just shit,” eric replied, muffled by dylan’s shirt. “it doesn’t matter. i don’t even think i can go back home.”

dylan pulled eric away and examined his face. though he was decorated with bruises he was still so beautiful to him. 

“you’re still pretty.”

eric laughed. there was a short moment of silence before dylan leaned in for a kiss. 

he winced in pain. “ouch,” eric said. he put his hand over his lip. 

“sorry, i’ll be gentle,” dylan replied with a soft smile. 

he guides eric to the bed, pulling the smaller boy beneath him. 

their rhythmic kiss quickly became sloppy and loose. 

dylan got up to kick the door. eric patiently waited on the bed, like a puppy being trained with treats. 

he came back and kissed him. he pulls away to remove eric’s white tee. 

dylan’s eyes gaze over eric’s body. 

there were more bruises speckled across his body. eric looked down at himself and back up to dylan’s eyes. 

“that’s from today.”

dylan gulped. the bruises seemed to be fading away. “are you sure?”

eric cleared his throat and sniffled again. he grabbed his shirt from dylan. 

“okay, i’m just gonna go stay with brooks.” 

eric pushes dylan off of him and got up to get his shirt back on. 

dylan shook his head. “no, you don’t have to leave.” no response. “eric.”

eric stopped in the middle of getting his bag. “what?”

dylan sighed. “i’m sorry, i just worry about you.”

eric fought the urge to cry again and sat down close to dylan. 

“a couple of a days ago, he thought he saw us kiss—well, i mean he probably did.” he forced a laugh and ran his fingers through his hair. “he beat me up and said if he ever saw us doing that again he’d kill me. i mean he’s gotten suspicious about it recently and brooks talking about us just confirmed. i guess.” he wiped a tear and sighed. dylan was speechless. “fine, i just need to get my mind off it.”

he leaned in to kiss dylan once more and placed a hand on his face. 

dylan pulled away. as he opened his mouth to speak, there was a knock on the door then a rattling of the door knob. 

dylan groaned and frowned at eric. he opened the door and the smell of spaghetti sauce bombarded his nostrils. 

sue smiled. “dinner’s ready.”

“yeah,” dylan began. he looked at eric, who was shaking his head. “we aren’t hungry.”

“feed your guest, dylan.”

“i’m good, miss klebold,” eric said. “i ate before i came. 

she sighs. “okay.”

dylan shut the door as she walked away and this time, made sure to lock it. 

eric threw himself back into the bed, and dylan went to lay beside him. eric stared up at the ceiling, thinking of how he’d never be able to go back home. 

dylan examines eric’s gorgeous side profile as his eyes were fixated on the ceiling. 

“i can’t go home.”

dylan rolled onto his side and proper himself up with his elbow. “you can stay here for as long as you need to.”

“no, i can’t go back, like, ever.” frustrated, eric put his face into the pillow. “this sucks,” he said, muffled. 

dylan takes his pillow away and placed a soft kiss on his lips. they tasted like blood and tears. 

he climbed on top of eric, grabbing one hand and intertwining their fingers. 

their lips separate again, this time, dylan stares at eric. 

“hm?”

“just looking at you.”

he was looking down at the love of his life; his soulmate. if things were different, he’d probably marry eric. 

he pushed a strand of hair behind dylan’s ear. dylan smiled to himself and kissed him again. 

eric watched dylan’s hand slowly drag up his stomach until it reached his chest, then his chin. 

he tilted his head up so their eyes met again. 

dylan gently kissed eric, pulled off his shirt, and then his own. 

“lose the pants, reb,” 

eric quickly nodded and eagerly pulled down his black jeans. his dick bounced up as he pulled down his underwear. 

a smile spread across his face and he gripped the base of his cock and slowly stroked it. with every movement eric grew more and more eager for dylan’s mouth. 

“please,” eric said, bucking his hips. 

dylan rolled his eyes. he flicked his tongue over the tip of eric’s cock, then took it into his mouth. eric’s breathing quickened and he threw his head back onto the mound of pillows behind him. 

he moaned and ran his fingers through dylan’s greasy hair.

just when he thought dylan would let him cum, dylan took his cock out of his mouth. 

“fuck,” eric said desperately, “come on, v.”

dylan shook his head and he began to take off his pants. “so eager,” he taunted. 

he threw eric’s short legs over his shoulders and kissed him again. he pumped himself a few times to make himself fully hard. he smiled, pushing the tip in. 

eric whimpered. dylan didn’t let him adjust, pushing himself into eric’s twink asshole. 

“you okay baby?” he asked him. eric nodded. 

dylan placed his hands on eric shoulders and shoved eric down on his dick all the way. a loud moan escaped eric’s lips and dylan kissed him to shut him up. 

“my family is home,” dylan said firmly. 

eric nodded. “i’m sorry,” he said, nearly unable to speak while dylan pounded into him. 

the room quickly filled with pants, moans and the occasional groan from eric when dylan hit the spot just right. 

eric’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. dylan grabbed his hips, steadying him as he thrust harder. he reached down with one hand to jack eric off. both sensations overwhelmed eric. 

beads of sweat started forming on dylan’s face, dripping down onto eric’s. 

eric bit his lip to stop himself from being too loud as he came all over his stomach. 

“f-fuck, v,” he said, sounding as if he were driving over a bumpy road. dylan was still at it. 

dylan fucked him at a steady pace, enjoying the sight of eric’s pleading face with his own cum all over himself. 

he came shortly after, coating eric’s insides with his sticky, white cum. 

dylan plopped down besides the panting boy. they were both a tired, sweaty mess. 

“you want some spaghetti now?”


End file.
